Doctor Who Short Stories Anthology
by Al Evans
Summary: A collection of short stories from the Doctor Who Universe!
1. 2017 (Version 1)

_Hi all. This is my first ever attempt at Doctor Who fanfiction so I really would welcome any feedback people can provide._

 _There are actually two versions of this initial story so by all means read them in any order you like and write in about which version you preferred and why._

* * *

Kate Stewart stood to attention as she heard the wheezing, groaning sound that she was growing alarmingly familiar with. The soldiers around her did the same as the blue police box materialized out of thin air.

With a gentle creak the door opened and a tall elderly man with hawk-like features leant out of the blue box.

"Can't tell you how long it's been since I made a house call Ms. Stewart."

The man flashed a card sized piece of paper with a message written on it. Kate allowed the corner of her mouth to twitch into the shadow of a smirk. "Doctor, always a pleasure."

The Doctor's eyes widened in mock surprise as he completely stepped out of the blue box. "Is it really? Because whenever we see each other it's usually got something to do with the end of the world. That's certainly how your psychic text message made it sound."

The Doctor turned the paper towards him and began reading in an overly dramatic manner.

"Doctor, come to these co-ordinates on Monday 20th March 2017 ASAP. Regards Kate Stewart, Unified Intelligence Taskforce."

Putting the paper in his jacket pocket he fixed Kate with a piercing look.

"You don't normally rope me in like this. So what's the matter exactly?"

Kate met the Doctor's gaze unflinchingly but a part of her still felt rather embarrassed.

"Not the end of the world Doctor. At least we don't think so. But we contacted you just to be on the safe side."

Kate turned around and walked towards a table where a series of files and photos were sprawled. Picking up one of the photos she handed it to the Doctor who'd followed her to the table. It displayed a pale faced and sickly looking man in some form of military uniform.

"Bob Martin. Or at least that's what he answered when questioned. Found last week unconscious in a back ally of Charlottesville, Virginia kitted out with a uniform and weaponry clearly not of this world. We detected an energy surge somewhat similar to the signature of your TARDIS when it materializes or dematerializes and went to investigate. We took him to our nearest facility, that's here by the way, for examination and treatment.

When he woke up he was incoherent and rambling drifting in and out of consciousness. He kept saying that 'they' were back and that 'they' were 'everywhere'. At times when we tried to question him on what he meant he answered like he couldn't see us. At other times he simply broke out in a cold sweat and looked terrified of us. Then three days ago he broke out of our facility."

Kate put the photo down and handed the Doctor a tablet device that was playing a video. The footage was blurry and the sound unclear. It displayed Martin running through several corridors and attacking soldiers blocking his path.

"Whenever our security officers approached him they complained of feeling unusually drowsy. With that in mind they were easy to disarm and get past, though he did stop to kill a few of them. Nevermind that it was slowing down his progress through the facility."

The Doctor's sharp eyebrows furrowed.

"Even if he could get beyond the guards how did he make it through the doors. I presume you've got more than a Chubb lock keeping this place secure."

The tiniest hint of red flushed in Kate's cheeks.

"This is a rather old UNIT facility Doctor. Security hasn't been entirely upgraded as of yet. No scans for retina or fingerprint patterns, no voice verification protocols. Just pass codes and somehow he knew the right ones to get out."

The Doctor put down the tablet and narrowed his eyes.

"Did he take any of his weapons with him?"

Kate shook her head.

"We placed all of his weapons and equipment in storage. He took a few of the guards' guns though. Even if he didn't unfortunately he's in America. Even without the strictly legal channels he can arm himself easily enough."

The Doctor gave a small knowing nod.

"What aren't you telling me Kate? Because I still don't see why this warrants my attention. Curious stuff to be sure but this is well within UNIT's purview."

Kate straightened up a little.

"Putting aside the fact that we are in the dark as to where he came from, one of his items was...worrying."

The Doctor's voice grew deeper.

"Worrying how."

Kate turned her head to one of the soldiers and nodded. The solder promptly fetched what looked like a motorcycle helmet and placed it on the desk. There was a silver headband like device attached to the helmet that was plainly not part of the original design.

"Martin was found wearing this. When we approached him some of our soldiers complained about headaches and migraines. When we removed the helmet those same sensations were experienced by whoever approached it, albeit to a much less severe extent. When Martin woke up though everyone in the base and within a 25 mile radius experienced severe migraines for a few seconds. Similar but smaller flashes occurred whenever Martin seemed distressed. The worrying part though was that at the time Martin and the helmet were separated by the entire Atlantic Ocean."

A small grin cracked the corner of the Doctor's mouth as he pointed to the headband device adorning the helmet.

"So you put psychic dampeners on the helmet. Nice idea, did it work?"

"Briefly. The pain experienced by anyone who got near it was reduced. But the levels are steadily rising again."

Kate leaned forwards on the table.

"Doctor, the only time we've ever seen anything even remotely like this was during an incident that directly involved you and interference from the Time Lords themselves."

"Correction, interference from _a_ Time Lord. My people as a whole weren't responsible for that debacle with the Keller Machine. Not unless you count turning out someone like the Master."

"Even so Doctor that incident proved highly volatile and UNIT is simply underequipped to deal with psychic matters like this. I don't know if this is a global threat, but it warranted your attentions all the same."

The Doctor picked up the helmet and began walking around the room nonchalantly as he examined it.

"Well the good news is there is nothing _globally_ dangerous about this. The bad news is it is still dangerous all the same."

Kate tried to hide the annoyance in her voice.

"Would you care to elaborate Doctor?"

The Doctor replied whilst holding the helmet up to his eye level and seemingly staring at his own reflection in it.

"Not really, but seeing as I'm a friend of the family I'll make an exception. This is comes from the year 2216. A prototype in fact, not nearly as advanced as the kinds your lot will be using come the mid 2220s."

"So it's terrestrial in origin."

"Sort of. It was engineered from technology scavenged from alien invaders in the previous decades."

"And what exactly does it do?"

Kate saw the Doctor's expression change in the reflection from the helmet. She could see an anger cross his face.

"Do?" He said quietly. He turned around and placed the helmet back on the table, looking down at it with a look of mild disgust. "It makes the act of war even more blind and stupid than it already is. That's what it does."

The Doctor backed away from the helmet slightly, his look of disgust deepening.

"To keep things very simple this helmet is programmed to make the wearer perceive people differently. All human beings possess the potential for psychic abilities and this helmet amplifies those abilities to take a scan of the surrounding area. The information it picks up from the minds of those it scans is then reinterpreted by the helmet along pre-set programming parameters and delivered to the wearer."

Kate didn't quite understand this, but could tell she wasn't going to like where this was going.

"Why would that make it easier to wage war?"

The Doctor replied slowly, as though trying to keep his temper under control.

"Because the helmet's programming makes the wearer perceive people not as people but as symbols based upon their thoughts. If you were a German soldier at the Western front wearing one of these helmets you'd see a British solder not as a fellow human being in a different uniform, you'd see him as whatever this helmet told you to see him as. Hear their voices as what it told you to hear. A man sized Union Jack perhaps, a man with a bulldog's head growling about the Bosch, a drooling, cackling monster. Could be anything. It takes an impression of the minds of _'potential targets'_ and based upon that fits them into a neat little box and makes you perceive them as something representing that. Easier to kill that way, not so different to why they cover the faces of someone sentenced to execution."

Kate had been right. She hadn't liked where this had gone at all.

"That sounds...horrible."

"It was. It came out of good intentions as these things often do. The Earth invaders had a habit of adopting human slaves, reprogramming some into enforcers, turning others into undercover agents within resistance cells, even recruiting people sympathetic to their beliefs. Prototypes like this were initially designed to detect whether a human they were looking at was the genuine article or someone on the side of the enemy. Or at least potentially likely to side with them."

Kate's expression softened ever so slightly.

"That seems perfectly reasonable."

"It was until you realize some people might not be sympathetic to your invaders but might hold similar enough beliefs all the same, even on an abstract level. Hitler and Stalin didn't get along but when you look at how they both craved power, what they did to get it and how they went about trying to keep it there were more than a few similarities. Someone seeing them through this helmet could see them as part of the same group depending upon the parameters of the programming. And when the wearer was intended to kill anyone who to them seemed like the enemy you can see where there was room for error."

Kate looked up briefly at the soldiers in the room. Some of them shuffled slightly under her stare. She turned back to the Doctor.

"Could you elaborate upon the psychic disturbances from the helmet?"

The Doctor took the helmet again and flipped it around so the visor was facing in Kate's direction.

"The wearer of the helmet wasn't simply supposed to shoot its target. The helmet's amplification of the user's psychic abilities was intended to make it capable of mentally subduing and attacking its opponents. And of course the military had loads of other plans for a soldier who was also a mind reader. That's how our Mister Martin knew the codes to get out. He picked them up from your heads."

"But Martin wasn't wearing the helmet the whole time. Certainly not when he made his escape. How could he have mentally subdued the guards without it?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"The tech was damaged of course. The human mind and psychic technology is always a dodgy combination, but this thing was being beta tested by our friend Martin. And getting swept up into a time storm couldn't have helped either."

"Time storm?"

"Time is a force of the cosmos the same way the wind is a force of nature. Storm's happen from time to time, sweeping things up from one place in time and space and dropping them off at another. You said you got an energy reading similar to my TARDIS when you found Martin? A time storm is our best bet to answer that one. Problem is though a human exposed to a time storm can find themselves disorientated on a mental and physical level and when your mind is linked with delicate and temperamental equipment like this..."

The Doctor made a hand gesture that mimicked an explosion.

"It gets messy" Said Kate.

The Doctor clicked his fingers and pointed at Kate.

"Spot on. My guess is that the equipment malfunctioned and between that and the time storm Martin's mind is a bit all over the place. Worse, it sounds as though as a side effect he's developed his own natural psychic abilities all on his lonesome, no training wheels required." The Doctor's head inclined towards the helmet.

"But he's still linked with the helmet so when he is in distress the helmet projects that outwards, causing pain to anyone nearby. And if that link still exists it's a safe bet that he's still perceiving the world in line with its programming. He's still seeing people as his enemies based upon the mental impressions he's taking from them. Tell me, the guards he took the time to kill, were any of them by any chance the same ones who he was afraid of when he was still recovering?"

"Yes." Nodded Kate.

The Doctor looked sombre.

"I was afraid of that. He perceived them as his enemy because their mental impressions lined up too much with the ideologies of his enemies."

"And these enemies would be?"

The Doctor stared coldly at Kate then spared a glance at the soldiers.

"It doesn't matter. Right now we need to find Martin and get him under control before he harms anymore people. With the state he's in he could unleash a wave of psychic energy that could kill countless people. The helmet's range might be 10 miles, but with his mind as imbalanced as it is his range could very well be the whole of the United States."

"We've got people on it."

"That's nice but the problem is that he's a soldier from the 23rd century. Virtual reality training has prepared him for multiple forms of combat in all kinds of terrain. He'll be able to avoid your soldiers with ease. We need to find out where he was heading, if he had any plan when he escaped. Then we could deduce where he might be now. Did he mention anything else whilst he was held here? Did he have any interests?"

"He followed the news. We allowed him to read the papers and watch television. That tended to distress him though."

"I wouldn't be surprised. The helmet probably took a scan of half the country when it arrived. Once storing information on all those people it would have reinterpreted them appropriately and been ready to feed Martin's perception of those people accordingly, even if he was seeing just a picture of them."

"You're saying if you were half a country away then this helmet would have your image stored ready for him to see you as his enemy whenever he happened to catch a glimpse of you? Even if it was just a photograph?"

"Or a video recording. Or even a particularly good painting. The helmet could even make him _hear_ people differently. By taking an impression of their minds the sentiments behind their words would be laid bare to Martin, at least along the pre-programmed lines of the helmet. In short he could've been seeing and hearing his enemies everywhere he turned and in his fragile state of mind he probably wouldn't have been able to realize he was experiencing a malfunction."

"So there is no chance of reasoning with him then?"

"Unfortunately not but if you pop one of these psychic dampeners on him that should subdue him long enough for us to get him back here and treat him properly. Once I boost their strength a bit of course."

With that the Doctor reached into his jacket and took out a chunky cylindrical device with a blue end to it. Pointing it at the dampener affixed to the helmet the Doctor pressed a button, lighting up the blue end of the device and emitting a humming sound.

"We can get you another dampener easily enough Doctor, but it's all academic until we find Martin."

"What sort of news particularly distressed him? That could give us a clue as to where he might be heading."

"The same news that's distressing most people this year..."

* * *

Bob Martin had found it easy enough to get from Virginia to Kentucky. His training in stealth and infiltration had prepared him for moving around undetected, even when travelling in public. His new abilities helped too, that's how he knew where he was and how to get to where he needed to be. Arming himself was easy enough too, not that he needed the firearms. His abilities and his training meant he could kill remotely if needed.

However he preferred doing things the old fashioned way like his father and grandfather had during the wars. He accepted that for his purposes that wouldn't do, he would need to kill them all with his mind in order to neutralize all the targets. But he would take out the leader with the gun. It seemed fitting to do it that way somehow. He hoped it would put fear into their hearts. That they would know that despite all their security precautions, all their body guards and all their cameras, he could still get to them. He didn't understand how or why they had developed a vulnerability to mere bullets when from everything he'd seen and heard of them they were far beyond such weaknesses.

But he wasn't about to question something that made his mission easier. He had to eliminate them all for the safety and security of everyone on Earth, and for their future. He couldn't allow them to live because he knew what they were like. Maybe once he killed all of them their odd mesmeric control over the populace would be gone and people would see them for what they were and properly organize against them instead of the mere feeble efforts he'd seen them put up so far.

He waited for hours in the convention centre; tucked away in the one spot he knew nobody would be able to detect him. The crowds milled in for what seemed like hours and hours until finally their leader made its grand entrance. And finally it began to speak, evidently putting on quite the show for the crowds and, Martin suspected, all the television viewers who'd been blinded to what it and its kind truly were.

"This place is packed. There are a lot of people outside who aren't getting in but that's alright. We love them too, we love them too. We're in the heartland of America and there is no place I'd rather be than here with you tonight..."

To those observers, Martin thought, the leader might seem like a regular human. But Martin knew better. He could see it and the rest of them for what they really were. See them as the monsters they were.

The leader droned on and on. Martin's training helped him register his enemies' words for what they were, but despite this he could still hear some of the leader's statements, hear them the way everybody else did.

"You know they compared my campaign to Jackson, President Jackson, of 1828...and they said this was even more severe...And he was a good President...The single best way to protect...and to keep foreign terrors from attacking our country is to keep these foreign terrors from entering our country in the first place...This s the future that awaits us if we embrace our destiny as Americans...we will not fail. Nobody can beat us. Nobody. We are Americans and the future belongs to us!...This, the United States of America, is your country again!"

The leader's statements were punctuated by roars and cheers from the crowds, but the last one got one of the biggest reactions of them all. In unison the 18,000 odd gatherers in the convention centre began chanting 'U.S.A. U.S. A. U.S. A.'. Within seconds however Martin began hearing the chanting very differently, and it chilled him to the bone.

Eventually, following one last triumphant roar from the crowds, Martin could tell the leader had finished. This was his moment he knew. He lowered his head towards the scope of the rifle and targeted the leader's chest, or where the chest area might've been on a human.

And it was at that moment he heard a sizzling sound from behind him and he wheeled about to see, something he'd never seen before. He couldn't even begin to describe it. It wasn't an enemy or an ally. The training simply couldn't comprehend it.

"Hello I'm the Doctor."

Martin simply stared dumbstruck.

"Is it the appearing out of thin air? Don't worry, despite the outfit I'm not a magician."

The...whatever it was seemed to tap what seemed to be its wrist.

"Vortex manipulator. Lucky UNIT had one to hand. Not my favourite way to travel but I suspected there wasn't going to be much room to get the whole TARDIS to your location given what you were planning."

"Y-You...H-Ho-" Stammered Martin.

"How did I find you?" Said the...entity. "That wasn't that hard. Just asked your carers what you were interested in and from that deduced this would be your most likely target. Sure enough a scan for pronounced psychic activity within this area confirmed my suspicions and narrowing the search down to this convention centre let me zero in on your exact location. Anymore questions? Because if not then I'd like you to come with me if it's all the same to you."

Upon hearing this, suddenly Martin didn't care that he couldn't get a real fix on this entity before him. Hesitating no longer, he unleashed a wave of psychic energy against the creature.

"Nice trick." Said the creature. "Unfortunately for you, we Gallifreyans are sturdier when it comes to psychic resistance than you humans. Which is why..."

The 'Gallifreyan', or whatever it was, seemed to close its eyes for a moment as if concentrating.

 _I can do this!_

The voice had come from within Martin's head. He barely had time to question it before he felt suddenly very, very tired. His knees buckled and then...blackness.

All he could feel was something cold being placed around his head.

* * *

"So that's that then Doctor. No more problems from Mister Martin. Oh and I'll be taking back that vortex manipulator now thank you."

They were back at the base in Virginia, the files and photos having been cleared from the desk and the helmet tucked under the Doctor's arm. He handed Kate a large leather strap with a device at its centre.

"I wouldn't say that exactly Kate. The dampeners have suppressed his psychic abilities but it will take him a long time to fully recover from the programming. He'll still be seeing and hearing the world differently for a good long while. But at least now he'll get better eventually. I'll come back for him in about six months to take him home; he should be in a fit state to travel by then. For now though, keep the dampeners on him and get him some decent therapy. You'll find he'll be a lot more receptive to you now."

"And the helmet?"

"I'll take it back to its proper time and place and give the residents of 2216 a good talking to. They ought to listen to me. I have saved them in the past. Then again, the people of this time haven't exactly done that."

" _I've_ tried to." There was a twinge of challenge in Kate's voic

The Doctor smiled.

"I know Kate."

The Doctor turned away from Kate and walked over to his blue box. He'd gotten halfway inside when Kate called after him.

"Doctor? Before you go just two more questions."

Turning back around, the Doctor fixed Kate with a sad, knowing look.

"All those people at the Kentucky Convention Centre, all the soldiers he killed here. Their mindsets were similar enough to Martin's enemies that he perceived them as the aliens who'd invaded Earth."

The Doctor continued to stare at Kate.

"Was his programming working properly when he saw them that way? Did those people really have mentalities similar to his enemies?"

The Doctor didn't say anything. Kate pressed on.

"And my other question was...just who were the enemies Martin was trying to fight against?"

For a long ten seconds the Doctor said nothing. Finally however he gave his reply.

"Goodbye Kate."

With that he closed the door and moments later Kate heard the familiar wheezing, groaning sound as the blue box disappeared from sight.

* * *

It was 11:15 on August 12 2017, or at least that's what the time and date on the TV said. Martin was watching the news.

About a month ago the people in charge of the facility had returned his TV privileges and even allowed him to use the internet, under strict monitoring of course.

The therapists who'd seen him felt the show of trust was an important step in Martin's recovery. He'd come a long way in the six odd months he'd been under their care. He knew that he should be wary of what he saw and heard and knew that UNIT and the Doctor had his best interests at heart.

And although it wasn't all encompassing, his perceptions had begun change back to normal. He no longer perceived everyone he saw or heard in accordance with the helmet's programming. But it was still there inside of him nevertheless.

The therapists had considered him reviewing footage and photographs of people who they knew Martin would, under the programming, perceive as the enemy. Their theory was that if he was exposed to it enough it could help him see past his perceptions. He was supposed to try this at least once a day.

To that end he was re-watching the rally at the Kentucky Convention centre on a tablet provided for him. He'd reviewed the footage too many times for him to count. He was getting better at hearing what the speakers were actually saying, but being able to see them as normal human beings was proving difficult. Even when concentrating it was all he could do to see the crowds blurring back and forth between human and the inhuman form of his nightmares.

But no matter how hard he concentrated the leader's visage remained unchanged. He could see it at that very moment on the tablet as the speech reached its crescendo.

"...Let us recite these words. Together we will make America strong again. We will make America wealthy again. We will make America proud again. We will make America safe again. And, we, will, make America Great Again!" said the Dalek.


	2. 2017 (Version 2)

_Hi all. This is my first ever attempt at Doctor Who fanfiction so I really would welcome any feedback people can provide._

 _There are actually two versions of this initial story so by all means read them in any order you like and write in about which version you preferred and why._

* * *

Kate Stewart stood to attention as she heard the wheezing, groaning sound that she was growing alarmingly familiar with. The soldiers around her did the same as the blue police box materialized out of thin air.

With a gentle creak the door opened and a tall elderly man with hawk-like features leant out of the blue box.

"Can't tell you how long it's been since I made a house call Ms. Stewart."

The man flashed a card sized piece of paper with a message written on it. Kate allowed the corner of her mouth to twitch into the shadow of a smirk. "Doctor, always a pleasure."

The Doctor's eyes widened in mock surprise as he completely stepped out of the blue box. "Is it really? Because whenever we see each other it's usually got something to do with the end of the world. That's certainly how your psychic text message made it sound."

The Doctor turned the paper towards him and began reading in an overly dramatic manner.

"Doctor, come to these co-ordinates on Monday 20th March 2017 ASAP. Regards Kate Stewart, Unified Intelligence Taskforce."

Putting the paper in his jacket pocket he fixed Kate with a piercing look.

"You don't normally rope me in like this. So what's the matter exactly?"

Kate met the Doctor's gaze unflinchingly but a part of her still felt rather embarrassed.

"Not the end of the world Doctor. At least we don't think so. But we contacted you just to be on the safe side."

Kate turned around and walked towards a table where a series of files and photos were sprawled. Picking up one of the photos she handed it to the Doctor who'd followed her to the table. It displayed a pale faced and sickly looking man in some form of military uniform.

"Bob Martin. Or at least that's what he answered when questioned. Found last week unconscious in a back ally of Charlottesville, Virginia kitted out with a uniform and weaponry clearly not of this world. We detected an energy surge somewhat similar to the signature of your TARDIS when it materializes or dematerializes and went to investigate. We took him to our nearest facility, that's here by the way, for examination and treatment.

When he woke up he was incoherent and rambling drifting in and out of consciousness. He kept saying that 'they' were back and that 'they' were 'everywhere'. At times when we tried to question him on what he meant he answered like he couldn't see us. At other times he simply broke out in a cold sweat and looked terrified of us. Then three days ago he broke out of our facility."

Kate put the photo down and handed the Doctor a tablet device that was playing a video. The footage was blurry and the sound unclear. It displayed Martin running through several corridors and attacking soldiers blocking his path.

"Whenever our security officers approached him they complained of feeling unusually drowsy. With that in mind they were easy to disarm and get past, though he did stop to kill a few of them. Nevermind that it was slowing down his progress through the facility."

The Doctor's sharp eyebrows furrowed.

"Even if he could get beyond the guards how did he make it through the doors. I presume you've got more than a Chubb lock keeping this place secure."

The tiniest hint of red flushed in Kate's cheeks.

"This is a rather old UNIT facility Doctor. Security hasn't been entirely upgraded as of yet. No scans for retina or fingerprint patterns, no voice verification protocols. Just pass codes and somehow he knew the right ones to get out."

The Doctor put down the tablet and narrowed his eyes.

"Did he take any of his weapons with him?"

Kate shook her head.

"We placed all of his weapons and equipment in storage. He took a few of the guards' guns though. Even if he didn't unfortunately he's in America. Even without the strictly legal channels he can arm himself easily enough."

The Doctor gave a small knowing nod.

"What aren't you telling me Kate? Because I still don't see why this warrants my attention. Curious stuff to be sure but this is well within UNIT's purview."

Kate straightened up a little.

"Putting aside the fact that we are in the dark as to where he came from, one of his items was...worrying."

The Doctor's voice grew deeper.

"Worrying how."

Kate turned her head to one of the soldiers and nodded. The solder promptly fetched what looked like a motorcycle helmet and placed it on the desk. There was a silver headband like device attached to the helmet that was plainly not part of the original design.

"Martin was found wearing this. When we approached him some of our soldiers complained about headaches and migraines. When we removed the helmet those same sensations were experienced by whoever approached it, albeit to a much less severe extent. When Martin woke up though everyone in the base and within a 25 mile radius experienced severe migraines for a few seconds. Similar but smaller flashes occurred whenever Martin seemed distressed. The worrying part though was that at the time Martin and the helmet were separated by the entire Atlantic Ocean."

A small grin cracked the corner of the Doctor's mouth as he pointed to the headband device adorning the helmet.

"So you put psychic dampeners on the helmet. Nice idea, did it work?"

"Briefly. The pain experienced by anyone who got near it was reduced. But the levels are steadily rising again."

Kate leaned forwards on the table.

"Doctor, the only time we've ever seen anything even remotely like this was during an incident that directly involved you and interference from the Time Lords themselves."

"Correction, interference from _a_ Time Lord. My people as a whole weren't responsible for that debacle with the Keller Machine. Not unless you count turning out someone like the Master."

"Even so Doctor that incident proved highly volatile and UNIT is simply underequipped to deal with psychic matters like this. I don't know if this is a global threat, but it warranted your attentions all the same."

The Doctor picked up the helmet and began walking around the room nonchalantly as he examined it.

"Well the good news is there is nothing _globally_ dangerous about this. The bad news is it is still dangerous all the same."

Kate tried to hide the annoyance in her voice.

"Would you care to elaborate Doctor?"

The Doctor replied whilst holding the helmet up to his eye level and seemingly staring at his own reflection in it.

"Not really, but seeing as I'm a friend of the family I'll make an exception. This is comes from the year 2216. A prototype in fact, not nearly as advanced as the kinds your lot will be using come the mid 2220s."

"So it's terrestrial in origin."

"Sort of. It was engineered from technology scavenged from alien invaders in the previous decades."

"And what exactly does it do?"

Kate saw the Doctor's expression change in the reflection from the helmet. She could see an anger cross his face.

"Do?" He said quietly. He turned around and placed the helmet back on the table, looking down at it with a look of mild disgust. "It makes the act of war even more blind and stupid than it already is. That's what it does."

The Doctor backed away from the helmet slightly, his look of disgust deepening.

"To keep things very simple this helmet is programmed to make the wearer perceive people differently. All human beings possess the potential for psychic abilities and this helmet amplifies those abilities to take a scan of the surrounding area. The information it picks up from the minds of those it scans is then reinterpreted by the helmet along pre-set programming parameters and delivered to the wearer."

Kate didn't quite understand this, but could tell she wasn't going to like where this was going.

"Why would that make it easier to wage war?"

The Doctor replied slowly, as though trying to keep his temper under control.

"Because the helmet's programming makes the wearer perceive people not as people but as symbols based upon their thoughts. If you were a German soldier at the Western front wearing one of these helmets you'd see a British solder not as a fellow human being in a different uniform, you'd see him as whatever this helmet told you to see him as. Hear their voices as what it told you to hear. A man sized Union Jack perhaps, a man with a bulldog's head growling about the Bosch, a drooling, cackling monster. Could be anything. It takes an impression of the minds of _'potential targets'_ and based upon that fits them into a neat little box and makes you perceive them as something representing that. Easier to kill that way, not so different to why they cover the faces of someone sentenced to execution."

Kate had been right. She hadn't liked where this had gone at all.

"That sounds...horrible."

"It was. It came out of good intentions as these things often do. The Earth invaders had a habit of adopting human slaves, reprogramming some into enforcers, turning others into undercover agents within resistance cells, even recruiting people sympathetic to their beliefs. Prototypes like this were initially designed to detect whether a human they were looking at was the genuine article or someone on the side of the enemy. Or at least potentially likely to side with them."

Kate's expression softened ever so slightly.

"That seems perfectly reasonable."

"It was until you realize some people might not be sympathetic to your invaders but might hold similar enough beliefs all the same, even on an abstract level. Hitler and Stalin didn't get along but when you look at how they both craved power, what they did to get it and how they went about trying to keep it there were more than a few similarities. Someone seeing them through this helmet could see them as part of the same group depending upon the parameters of the programming. And when the wearer was intended to kill anyone who to them seemed like the enemy you can see where there was room for error."

Kate looked up briefly at the soldiers in the room. Some of them shuffled slightly under her stare. She turned back to the Doctor.

"Could you elaborate upon the psychic disturbances from the helmet?"

The Doctor took the helmet again and flipped it around so the visor was facing in Kate's direction.

"The wearer of the helmet wasn't simply supposed to shoot its target. The helmet's amplification of the user's psychic abilities was intended to make it capable of mentally subduing and attacking its opponents. And of course the military had loads of other plans for a soldier who was also a mind reader. That's how our Mister Martin knew the codes to get out. He picked them up from your heads."

"But Martin wasn't wearing the helmet the whole time. Certainly not when he made his escape. How could he have mentally subdued the guards without it?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"The tech was damaged of course. The human mind and psychic technology is always a dodgy combination, but this thing was being beta tested by our friend Martin. And getting swept up into a time storm couldn't have helped either."

"Time storm?"

"Time is a force of the cosmos the same way the wind is a force of nature. Storm's happen from time to time, sweeping things up from one place in time and space and dropping them off at another. You said you got an energy reading similar to my TARDIS when you found Martin? A time storm is our best bet to answer that one. Problem is though a human exposed to a time storm can find themselves disorientated on a mental and physical level and when your mind is linked with delicate and temperamental equipment like this..."

The Doctor made a hand gesture that mimicked an explosion.

"It gets messy" Said Kate.

The Doctor clicked his fingers and pointed at Kate.

"Spot on. My guess is that the equipment malfunctioned and between that and the time storm Martin's mind is a bit all over the place. Worse, it sounds as though as a side effect he's developed his own natural psychic abilities all on his lonesome, no training wheels required." The Doctor's head inclined towards the helmet.

"But he's still linked with the helmet so when he is in distress the helmet projects that outwards, causing pain to anyone nearby. And if that link still exists it's a safe bet that he's still perceiving the world in line with its programming. He's still seeing people as his enemies based upon the mental impressions he's taking from them. Tell me, the guards he took the time to kill, were any of them by any chance the same ones who he was afraid of when he was still recovering?"

"Yes." Nodded Kate.

The Doctor looked sombre.

"I was afraid of that. He perceived them as his enemy because their mental impressions lined up too much with the ideologies of his enemies."

"And these enemies would be?"

The Doctor stared coldly at Kate then spared a glance at the soldiers.

"It doesn't matter. Right now we need to find Martin and get him under control before he harms anymore people. With the state he's in he could unleash a wave of psychic energy that could kill countless people. The helmet's range might be 10 miles, but with his mind as imbalanced as it is his range could very well be the whole of the United States."

"We've got people on it."

"That's nice but the problem is that he's a soldier from the 23rd century. Virtual reality training has prepared him for multiple forms of combat in all kinds of terrain. He'll be able to avoid your soldiers with ease. We need to find out where he was heading, if he had any plan when he escaped. Then we could deduce where he might be now. Did he mention anything else whilst he was held here? Did he have any interests?"

"He followed the news. We allowed him to read the papers and watch television. That tended to distress him though."

"I wouldn't be surprised. The helmet probably took a scan of half the country when it arrived. Once storing information on all those people it would have reinterpreted them appropriately and been ready to feed Martin's perception of those people accordingly, even if he was seeing just a picture of them."

"You're saying if you were half a country away then this helmet would have your image stored ready for him to see you as his enemy whenever he happened to catch a glimpse of you? Even if it was just a photograph?"

"Or a video recording. Or even a particularly good painting. The helmet could even make him _hear_ people differently. By taking an impression of their minds the sentiments behind their words would be laid bare to Martin, at least along the pre-programmed lines of the helmet. In short he could've been seeing and hearing his enemies everywhere he turned and in his fragile state of mind he probably wouldn't have been able to realize he was experiencing a malfunction."

"So there is no chance of reasoning with him then?"

"Unfortunately not but if you pop one of these psychic dampeners on him that should subdue him long enough for us to get him back here and treat him properly. Once I boost their strength a bit of course."

With that the Doctor reached into his jacket and took out a chunky cylindrical device with a blue end to it. Pointing it at the dampener affixed to the helmet the Doctor pressed a button, lighting up the blue end of the device and emitting a humming sound.

"We can get you another dampener easily enough Doctor, but it's all academic until we find Martin."

"What sort of news particularly distressed him? That could give us a clue as to where he might be heading."

"The same news that's distressing most people this year..."

* * *

Bob Martin had found it easy enough to get from Virginia to Kentucky. His training in stealth and infiltration had prepared him for moving around undetected, even when travelling in public. His new abilities helped too, that's how he knew where he was and how to get to where he needed to be. Arming himself was easy enough too, not that he needed the firearms. His abilities and his training meant he could kill remotely if needed.

However he preferred doing things the old fashioned way like his father and grandfather had during the wars. He accepted that for his purposes that wouldn't do, he would need to kill them all with his mind in order to neutralize all the targets. But he would take out the leader with the gun. It seemed fitting to do it that way somehow. He hoped it would put fear into their hearts. That they would know that despite all their security precautions, all their body guards and all their cameras he could still get to them. He didn't understand how or why they had developed a vulnerability to mere bullets when from everything he'd seen and heard of them they were far beyond such weaknesses.

But he wasn't about to question something that made his mission easier. He had to eliminate them all for the safety and security of everyone on Earth and for their future. He couldn't allow them to live because he knew what they were like. Maybe once he killed all of them their odd mesmeric control over the populace would be gone and people would see them for what they were and properly organize against them instead of the mere feeble efforts he'd seen them put up so far.

He waited for hours in the convention centre; tucked away in the one spot he knew nobody would be able to detect him. The crowds milled in for what seemed like hours and hours until finally their leader made its grand entrance. And finally it began to speak, evidently putting on quite the show for the crowds and, Martin suspected, all the television viewers who'd been blinded to what it and its kind truly were.

"This place is packed. There are a lot of people outside who aren't getting in, but that's alright. We love them too, we love them too. We're in the heartland of America and there is no place I'd rather be than here with you tonight..."

To those observers, Martin thought, the leader might seem like a regular human. But Martin knew better. He could see it and the rest of them for what they really were. See them as the monsters they were.

The leader droned on and on. Martin's training helped him register his enemies' words for what they were, but despite this he could still hear some of the leader's statements, hear them the way everybody else did.

"You know they compared my campaign to Jackson, President Jackson, of 1828...and they said this was even more severe...And he was a good President...The single best way to protect...and to keep foreign terrors from attacking our country is to keep these foreign terrors from entering our country in the first place...This s the future that awaits us if we embrace our destiny as Americans...we will not fail. Nobody can beat us. Nobody. We are Americans and the future belongs to us!...This, the United States of America, is your country again!"

The leader's statements were punctuated by roars and cheers from the crowds, but the last one got one of the biggest reactions of them all. In unison the 18,000 odd gatherers in the convention centre began chanting 'U.S.A. U.S. A. U.S. A.'. Within seconds however Martin began hearing the chanting differently, hearing the real intent behind the words.

But the leader was not finished just yet.

"...Let us recite these words. Together we will make America strong again. We will make America wealthy again. We will make America proud again. We will make America safe again. And we will make America great again!"

As the crowds roared Martin could tell the leader had finished. This was his moment he knew. He lowered his head towards the scope of the rifle and targeted the leader's chest, or where the chest area might've been on a human.

And it was at that moment he heard a sizzling sound from behind him and he wheeled about to see, something he'd never seen before. He couldn't even begin to describe it. It wasn't an enemy or an ally. The training simply couldn't comprehend it.

"Hello I'm the Doctor."

Martin simply stared dumbstruck.

"Is it the appearing out of thin air? Don't worry, despite the outfit I'm not a magician."

The...whatever it was seemed to tap what seemed to be its wrist.

"Vortex manipulator. Lucky UNIT had one to hand. Not my favourite way to travel but I suspected there wasn't going to be much room to get the whole TARDIS to your location given what you were planning."

"Y-You...H-Ho-" Stammered Martin.

"How did I find you?" Said the...entity. "That wasn't that hard. Just asked your carers what you were interested in and from that deduced this would be your most likely target. Sure enough a scan for pronounced psychic activity within this area confirmed my suspicions and narrowing the search down to this convention centre let me zero in on your exact location. Anymore questions? Because if not then I'd like you to come with me if it's all the same to you."

Upon hearing this, suddenly Martin didn't care that he couldn't get a real fix on this entity before him. Hesitating no longer, he unleashed a wave of psychic energy against the creature.

"Nice trick." Said the creature. "Unfortunately for you, we Gallifreyans are sturdier when it comes to psychic resistance than you humans. Which is why..."

The 'Gallifreyan', or whatever it was, seemed to close its eyes for a moment as if concentrating.

 _I can do this!_

The voice had come from within Martin's head. He barely had time to question it before he felt suddenly very, very tired. His knees buckled and then...blackness.

All he could feel was something cold being placed around his head.

* * *

"So that's that then Doctor. No more problems from Mister Martin. Oh and I'll be taking back that vortex manipulator now thank you."

They were back at the base in Virginia, the files and photos having been cleared from the desk and the helmet tucked under the Doctor's arm. He handed Kate a large leather strap with a device at its centre.

"I wouldn't say that exactly Kate. The dampeners have suppressed his psychic abilities but it will take him a long time to fully recover from the programming. He'll still be seeing and hearing the world differently for a good long while. But at least now he'll get better eventually. I'll come back for him in about six months to take him home; he should be in a fit state to travel by then. For now though, keep the dampeners on him and get him some decent therapy. You'll find he'll be a lot more receptive to you now."

"And the helmet?"

"I'll take it back to its proper time and place and give the residents of 2216 a good talking to. They ought to listen to me. I have saved them in the past. Then again, the people of this time haven't exactly done that."

" _I've_ tried to." There was a twinge of challenge in Kate's voic

The Doctor smiled.

"I know Kate."

The Doctor turned away from Kate and walked over to his blue box. He'd gotten halfway inside when Kate called after him.

"Doctor? Before you go just two more questions."

Turning back around, the Doctor fixed Kate with a sad, knowing look.

"All those people at the Kentucky Convention Centre, all the soldiers he killed here. Their mindsets were similar enough to Martin's enemies that he perceived them as the aliens who'd invaded Earth."

The Doctor continued to stare at Kate.

"Was his programming working properly when he saw them that way? Did those people really have mentalities similar to his enemies?"

The Doctor didn't say anything. Kate pressed on.

"And my other question was...just who were the enemies Martin was trying to fight against?"

For a long ten seconds the Doctor said nothing. Finally however he gave his reply.

"Goodbye Kate."

With that he closed the door and moments later Kate heard the familiar wheezing, groaning sound as the blue box disappeared from sight.

* * *

It was 11:15 on August 12 2017, or at least that's what the time and date on the TV said. Martin was watching the news.

About a month ago the people in charge of the facility had returned his TV privileges and even allowed him to use the internet, under strict monitoring of course.

The therapists who'd seen him felt the show of trust was an important step in Martin's recovery. He'd come a long way in the six odd months he'd been under their care. He knew that he should be wary of what he saw and heard and knew that UNIT and the Doctor had his best interests at heart.

And although it wasn't all encompassing, his perceptions had begun change back to normal. He no longer perceived everyone he saw or heard in accordance with the helmet's programming. But it was still there inside of him nevertheless.

The therapists had considered him reviewing footage and photographs of people who they knew Martin would, under the programming, perceive as the enemy. Their theory was that if he was exposed to it enough it could help him see past his perceptions. He was supposed to try this at least once a day.

To that end he was re-watching the rally at the Kentucky Convention centre on a tablet provided for him. He'd reviewed the footage too many times for him to count. He was getting better at seeing the crowd as actual people but he still heard the speech as he had done on the night he'd been apprehended. He'd had the real words of the leader repeated back to him.

Intellectually he knew that he was saying 'Make America Great Again.' But every time he listened with his own ears he still heard the loud shrieking voice echoing in his head.

"We will be Masters of Earth!"

He put the tablet down, giving up the footage as a bad job.

Martin still wanted to complete the exercise though, and fortunately for him there was always something on the news that could provide him with suitable material to work with. He tuned into one of his preferred news channels and began concentrating.

"Last night's Charlottesville 'Unite the Right' rally saw a torch march by..."

Martin clenched his teeth. He hadn't expected something as visceral as this. But he kept going, turning on the subtitles so he'd know exactly what was actually being said.

With concentration he was able to see the marchers as people, not as his enemy. But it was hard, the images kept blurring back and forth between angry people bearing torches and the inhuman metallic forms of the enemy.

His hearing was worse though, he couldn't pick up the faintest trace of anyone's actual voices or words. He just kept hearing the loud screeching as they chanted. It reminded him of the chanting at the convention centre, only much worse.

From the subtitles he could read the words 'One People, one nation, end immigration!'

However try as he might all he could hear was a terrible chorus repeating the same word, over and over again.

"EXTERMINATE! EXTETMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"


	3. Kindred Spirits

_Please leave some feedback when you are done with this story!_

* * *

Elmer Davison had long thought of himself as a victim.

As a child growing up in Louisiana in the 1950s things had seemed so simple. Everyone knew their place. And if they didn't, the signs made it clear enough.

'White' or 'Colored'.

Separate but equal.

Simple.

On occasion Elmer had admitted to himself that the last word of that mantra might not have been strictly true. Though he'd been a naive child, he wasn't blind. He could see how the 'colored facilities' were usually in a worse state than those he or his friends and family used.

This never really bothered him though. It was just the way it was his father had told him. The colored folk should count themselves lucky he used to say.

"Back in my grandpa's day they woulda given their teeth for what they got now. And they got the stones to want the more now. Ungrateful, that's what it is. All 'er them. Ungrateful. "

Growing up Elmer inevitably saw 'the coloreds' (the most polite of his father's names for them) marching and chanting all over the country. Birmingham, Albany, Washington. To young Elmer it seemed black people did little apart from yell and march with signs. Just as it seemed the police did little but fight with them.

"It's a disgrace." His mother would say "Those poor officers getting harassed by the press for just doing their jobs. And as for those protestors just why do they have to be so darn _loud_ all'er time."

Elmer didn't disagree with his parents. They were his parents after all. If they said the black people on the TV and all the other people different to him and his family were out of line they had to be. His parents said so.

It wasn't until university though that Elmer really understood the way things were.

The bygone days of separate but equal weren't so perfect after all. They were a weak kneed concession to the true natural order of things from the glory days of America. The days when the white man assumed their rightful place at the top of society's food chain and the blacks, the Asians and the rest lived beneath them, obedient to their will.

That was how America was made great explained Billy Pearson. He'd been introduced to Elmer by friends he'd met at college and his words expanded what Elmer already knew.

They needed to take back their once great country from the blacks, the Indians, the Asians and of course the Jews. The old enemy of civilized man. The betrayers of Elmer's lord and saviour. The ones who really controlled the banks, the newspapers and so much else.

For almost 50 years of his life Elmer dedicated himself to that cause. Whether it was seeking office himself, preaching the truth to his brothers in their beautiful pale robes or adorning himself in the gallant uniforms of those defeated heroes of the Second World War, Elmer spoke with fire and fury against the enemies. And when he could get away with it he and his brothers donned their sacred robes and did a lot more than just talk about the defence of his people.

His people.

His poor, poor people.

How they had so suffered in his life time giving over more and more of their rightful power to the inferior barbarians encroaching on his once great country.

The biggest insult for Elmer had been on November 5th 2008 when Elmer had awoken to a nightmare. One of them. One of _them_ in the highest office in the land. The highest office of any land. He'd been so aghast at what he'd seen that when the pretender President had conned the country a second time in 2012 Elmer couldn't even muster the energy to be angry.

But then the tide turned. One of his kind was in charge now. Now he and his kin could begin cleaning up the country of the filth that infected it, weakened it and subjugated his people for so long.

One of the filth had actually opened up a business a town over from where Elmer lived. Calvin, one of the new recruits to the cause told him about them. A family of five running a restaurant together, accents as thick as their food was spicy. Illegal of course. And if not that didn't matter. If nothing else they'd serve as a good message to anybody else trying to take work away from honest folk like Elmer and his family.

Together he, Calvin and half a dozen other guys from the regular rallies headed down to the restaurant. They didn't bring the robes, it was better to avoid being caught that way. Even if he was he had enough connections on the police force and in the local government to get him and the others out of trouble. All the same they wore ski masks and didn't plan anything too elaborate. Some spray paint so everyone knew exactly what they were and then a firework or five so they'd really get the message.

It'd gone three in the morning when they arrived, following Calvin to the back of the restaurant. The place had seemed oddly derelict compared to the rest of the area.

"Typical of these people." Someone had muttered.

Whilst writing their message though Elmer had spotted that the back door was open. The others had just about finished tagging the wall with a little reminder from the 1940s when Calvin suggested they go inside. Even Elmer had questioned this idea, but Calvin was insistent, his enthusiasm infectious.

And so inside they'd gone, vaguely muttering about placing the fireworks near the stove or maybe in the bar area. However it wasn't long before their eyes adjusted to the dark and all of them seemed to realize the place was in a state of disrepair.

No tables, boarded up windows, a broken oven. Even for the slobs from across the border this didn't seem to make much sense to Elmer. Even if the family had moved away the thick dust indicated the place had been deserted for a long while now.

"I don't understand." He'd said.

"Humans subjects acquired."

The voice had come from Calvin, but it was louder, more clipped and oddly vacant than Elmer had ever heard before. In fact it was unlike how he'd ever heard anyone speak before.

"What's wrong with you?" He'd asked. Calvin however had simply stretched his arm out and for a second Elmer bizarrely thought he was about to salute him like at the rallies.

However Calvin's palm had turned upwards towards Elmer the other six men. A flash of light emanated from his palm and a strange sensation flowed through Elmer's body.

"What...What's wrong with me!" He'd yelled. Calvin had not answered.

Elmer didn't know what had happened next. However he now groggily opened his eyes and glanced some sort of apparatus suspended high above him. It resembled a shower head but it plainly didn't dispense water as all the wires and switches on its handle indicated. It was then that Elmer uncomfortably realized he was completely naked and strapped down onto a metal table.

His head hurt, the pain exacerbated by a throbbing sound in the background of the room. He'd begun to panic, sweat dripping down his close shaven head. Frantically he glanced to his right and saw the other guys strapped down to similar tables. The only person missing was Calvin.

"If you are looking for your compatriot _'Calvin'_ , he is no longer present. He has returned to his homestead. Once he has sufficiently accounted for your absences he will begin ingratiating himself to other members of your organization. I will of course need more test subjects than just yourselves."

The voice came from Elmer's left. He'd whipped his head around but saw nothing but shadow. All expect for one small blue light bulb. Except Elmer noticed it seemed to be moving slightly. And when he really concentrated he saw what seemed like a face in the shadows, the light almost seeming to Elmer like it was a part of that same face.

Elmer tried to speak but no words came out. He was too scared and disorientated.

"I wish for you to understand this is an act of desperation." Said the figure in the shadows. "What I am about to do is far from the ideal scenario. But I and my people grew well accustomed to making do with the resources we had to hand. Especially when it comes to matters of survival."

"Wh-Who are you?" Elmer managed to gasp out.

"I am a scientist who simply seeks to see his kind continue to live on."

"I...I can get that." Elmer prayed whoever this was could be talked to. Reasoned with

"I am aware that you can comprehend this concept. That is why I think I needed somebody to know why I am doing what I am doing. I needed to give voice to my justification for compromising the purity of my kind with your filth. It was a mistake I vowed to never make twice over and yet...needs must"

"P-please. I...I don't know what you mean?"

Elmer saw the blue light bob slight to the side and imagined the shadowed figure was inclining his head. Then he heard a whirring sound and the light grew larger and closer.

"My people, my kind, were near eradicated recently. A predator had burned them from the sky itself. Only this small escape ship remains, with but myself and one critically injured crew member surviving. I realized to rebuild our species we would have to harvest the lesser forms of organic life and elevate them to our kin. To this end we acquired the one you call _Calvin_ and reprogrammed him. He has been infiltrating human society for us and scouting potential subjects. He is far from our only agent though."

"You...you've been conducting experiments on...on humans?"

The whirring noise repeated and the blue light grew yet closer and larger.

"Indeed. Initially they were not successful. Few survived the initial physical transformation and the few who do find the mental conditioning phase too much for them."

Elmer began panting in fear.

"I consequently tried the reverse, conditioning the mind prior to altering the flesh. This has yielded better results but nevertheless unsatisfactory ones. I hypothesized that the mental conditioning causes subjects to reject their own sense of self during the bodily alterations. The reality of their human existence is made blunt to them during that phase of their transformation. They cannot help but realize what they are and the trauma and shame of it causes their minds and bodies to fail them. They would rather not live than live knowing they were, or ever were, human."

Elmer could make out more of the figure's face now.

"Lacking the necessary apparatus to bypass these dilemmas I adopted a new method. Conditioning the mind and body simultaneously. As the subjects' minds' are pre-occupied with the mental conditioning they cannot reject the origin of their flesh. And whatever parts of them are aware of their situation will perceive their bodies as far from human, thus not reacting in rejection of their own existence."

The figure's face seemed heavily wrinkled.

"That is what the apparatus above you is for. Soon you and your compatriots will be reborn. Your bodies will be transformed, as will your minds once you have been sufficiently re-educated as to the natural order of life in this universe."

Elmer still couldn't quite make out the man's eyes.

"However this process alone could not guarantee success. In my previous attempts I learned the process would not work if the subject's mind, their mentalities, their beliefs if you will, were too incompatible with the desired end result of the mental conditioning. Knowing this I thus sought out subjects for whom the opposite held true. And as you can see it has proven highly successful"

Out of the corner of his eye Elmer spotted another blue light in the distance. And then another right beside it, and then another, and another. Soon the room was surrounded by a ring of such lights.

"You and your compatriots are ideal, though I have found success with those considered more moderate in the mentalities that you represent. For example those who do not take action as you have but who nevertheless follow your elected leader. It is most fortunate for my purposes that their numbers continue to swell and their mentalities move closer to your own."

Now he was closer Elmer could get a better measure of the figure's build. He seemed relatively lean but short; unless he was perhaps sitting down.

"My observations predict that if these trends continue I will soon have enough subjects to rebuild my people's once great empire and restore the natural balance to the universe."

The figure moved closer its face was finally illuminated by the dim light. Elmer wanted to scream but was too horrified by what he saw to do so.

"To this end I must thank you, and those like you."

Beholding the horrifically scarred face of the figure, Elmer gazed into its eyes. But he found none. Merely more black-grey scarred flesh. He continued to stare in horror, even as the blue light affixed to the figure's forehead burned his retinas.

Elmer wanted to scream but couldn't as he gazed upon the horrific face of the figure. It was indeed wrinkled but more than that it was scarred and deformed. Its skin greyish black, with the darkest patches covering the deep, empty sockets where its eyes should have been.

"Thank you for making such good Daleks." Said Davros.


End file.
